


Second Snowfall

by cosmic_llin



Series: Right Here By My Side: An Ada/Hecate Pre-Canon Timeline [6]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Beginnings, Community - Freeform, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Snow, Teaching, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:52:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: Ada celebrates her first Halloween as headmistress, with some help from Hecate.This is sort of a sequel toFirst Snowfall, but you don't need to read that to read this.





	Second Snowfall

The year Ada became headmistress, it snowed on Halloween.

She’d been acting as her mother’s deputy for years, gradually taking on more of the day-to-day handling of the school. Something as commonplace as a bit of early snow shouldn’t have given her a moment’s worry.

And yet here she was in an uncharacteristic panic, staring out of her office window at the thick flurries, dread creeping down her spine.

She wished that Agatha were here, although it probably wouldn’t have helped. Agatha had been around on and off since they had both come of age, sometimes teaching and sometimes not, but she could never stay for long without arguing with either Ada or their mother. She’d been gone for years now. Ada wasn’t expecting to see her any time soon.

She’d sent her a message just in case, when Mother had announced she was stepping down. They’d always talked of running the school together, after all. But she’d had no reply.

Agatha would probably show up again at some point, but with all this snow, it certainly wouldn’t be this afternoon. Ada looked for her broomstick in the distance anyway, as though she could make Agatha appear by wishing hard enough.

(She couldn’t. When Agatha had been sent away to Wormwood’s all those years ago, she’d tried every night.)

In hindsight she’d heard the knock, but it didn’t register until the door opened and Hecate’s voice said, ‘Ada?’

She turned around. Hecate was in the doorway.

‘Is everything all right?’

Ada gestured helplessly. ‘Look at the snow! The girls’ll never be able to fly to the celebrations in this!’

‘It’s a terrible shame,’ said Hecate, ‘after all their practising. I was just coming to ask you if you’d thought about what we ought to do instead.’

‘I…’ Ada began, then burst into tears.

‘I see,’ said Hecate.

She came into the room, led Ada to one of the comfortable chairs in front of the fire, sat her down, and produced a handkerchief, which she presented to her.

‘You might as well get it out of your system,’ she said, not unkindly, and while Ada cried she set about making a pot of tea.

By the time Ada had calmed down a bit, the tea was ready. Hecate poured it and sat down in the other chair.

‘Now,’ she said, ‘what’s this all about?’

‘I just so wanted it to be perfect,’ said Ada. ‘My first Halloween as headmistress, and we were lucky enough to be invited to the Great Wizard’s celebration, and the girls have worked so hard to make their formation flying perfect, and I… I wanted to show everybody that I wasn’t letting the side down. That Cackle’s is still every bit as good as it was under my mother.’

She’d kept picturing them flying down to the festivities, she at the head of the formation, Hecate just a fraction behind her, close enough to exchange proud smiles as they led the girls in a perfect descending spiral to land neatly on target. The applause, the compliments, the nod of acknowledgement from the Great Wizard himself. She’d been imagining it all week.

Hecate wore that look of fond exasperation Ada had become intimately familiar with over their years of friendship. ‘Nobody doubts your capabilities,’ she said. ‘It’s not as though anybody will think less of you over this, you can’t help the snow.’

‘Perhaps nobody else doubts me, but I do,’ Ada sighed. ‘Mother had such a towering reputation, and it’s such a lot to follow. And I always thought there would be two of us… I know Agatha’s been gone a long time, but somehow I… I never really believed I’d be doing this by myself.’

It was the first time she’d spoken the thought aloud. It sat heavily in the air.

‘Sometimes a person’s absence leaves a hole that can’t be filled, not by any number of others,’ said Hecate. ‘But you’re not alone, Ada.’

She reached out and laid her hand gently over Ada’s, and smiled her small, soft smile. Ada nodded.

‘Give me an hour,’ Hecate said.

Ada frowned. ‘For what?’

‘You’ll see. Take some time to gather yourself, catch your breath, and then come down to the main hall.’

* * *

Ada had known Hecate was organised and efficient - that was a large part of why she’d chosen her to be her deputy. But this was something else.

‘This hall was all but bare!’ she said. ‘How on earth did you manage this?’

She gazed at the garlands of black and orange strung across the ceiling, the lanterns hanging in every corner, the autumnal flowers and plants adorning every surface, the tables moved aside ready for games and dancing. It was glorious.

‘The students can be very productive when properly motivated,’ Hecate said.

‘And how did you motivate them?’

‘I told them anyone who participated would have no Potions homework this week.’

‘Hecate Hardbroom! What about their educations?’

‘Desperate times call for desperate measures,’ Hecate said. ‘Besides, Halloween is an important cultural activity.’

‘I thought you didn’t even approve of Halloween decorations,’ Ada teased.

‘Yes, well,’ said Hecate, ‘I know that _you_ do, and you’ve already been disappointed once today.’

And there was another reason she’d chosen Hecate to be her deputy. It helped to have someone who - even though they sometimes disagreed - was always on her side.

She watched as Hecate spotted one of the students hanging a lantern crooked and rushed to correct her, and her heart surged with affection. Would she have believed it, if someone had told her when Hecate first arrived that the shy young potions teacher would become her best friend and most stalwart supporter? That her diffidence would mellow into a quiet self-assurance that made her the equal of any teacher Ada had known?

Perhaps she would have believed it, at that. Ada prided herself on her ability to see people’s potential.

* * *

Another hour later, the Halloween festivities were in full swing. Ada had peeked out of the window and discovered that the snow had stopped, but it was too late now. By the time they had flown to the celebrations, it would already be time to start back.

She watched from the balcony as the girls bounced like pinballs between the table full of cakes, the games, and the older girls’ demonstrations of their showiest spells. Full of sugar and the thrill of a day without lessons, they seemed mostly to have forgotten to mind that they were missing the Great Wizard’s celebration.

Hecate prowled the hall, keeping an eye on things. As Ada’s gaze followed her, she sent out a small spell to dry the splashed floor around the apple-bobbing tub, so that nobody would slip.

She’d worked so hard to salvage this Halloween for Ada and the girls. Ada was struck by the desire to do something for her in return. Nobody would notice if she disappeared for a few minutes.

* * *

Back from her errand, Ada climbed onto the stage and waved for the girls’ attention. The room gradually hushed, students and teachers alike looking up at her.

‘If you would please all don your ceremonial cloaks and hats and make your way to the lower field,’ said Ada, ‘the celebration will continue there.’

‘What’s going on?’ Hecate asked, falling in beside her as they moved with the crowd through the corridors towards the grounds.

‘You’ll see,’ Ada said.

The girls spilled out into the night, shrieking like banshees, and poured down towards the lower field. The teachers and other staff followed at a more leisurely pace.

‘Oh!’ breathed Hecate, as they reached the lower field.

‘Do you like it?’ Ada asked.

Even Cackle’s, a bastion of tradition, didn’t usually light the ceremonial fires these days, but Ada had heard Hecate reminisce often enough about the ones she’d known in her childhood. She hoped this one wouldn’t suffer in comparison.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Hecate half-whispered, walking slowly towards it.

Ada had cleared away a circle of snow, leaving room for the fire and a thin circumference of bare earth. The girls arranged themselves around the blaze, whispering and giggling. For some of the first years it was their first time wearing ceremonial robes - Ada could spot them easily, the way they carried themselves a little differently, feeling like real witches in a way they never had before.

As they settled into their places, the giggling died away - there was something powerful about this, the contrast of the piercing cold night at their backs and the fierce heat of the fire before them, the taste of smoke and snow in the air, the ground beneath their feet that witches had walked on for centuries, the sky above them a blanket of darkness speckled with stars bright enough to make out the constellations looking down on them - Ceridwen and her cauldron, the Cailleach in her cloak.

Ada looked at the circle of figures around the fire. Her girls, from the small, nervous first years to the tall, serious girls in their final year, stood with faces upturned, their eyes sparkling in the glow. The air danced with their shared magic.

She had meant this as a gift for Hecate, but perhaps she had needed it too.

It wasn’t clear who had begun it, but around the circle, girls were beginning to join hands. Ada reached out to either side. On her left, Jennifer Foxglove, a third year, held her hand firmly. On her right, Hecate’s fingers laced with hers, clasped tight.

She felt it the moment the circle was complete, a surge of power that made the flames leap. Miss Bat began an ancient chant, a spell for safety and success over the coming year, and it rippled around the circle, the younger girls joining in as they picked up the words.

Ada hadn’t heard this chant in years but it came back to her easily, and as she spoke the words she let the sound wash over her, feeling the power rising, their shared intention focusing. She turned and looked at Hecate beside her. Her eyes were closed as she chanted, and her silhouette in the firelight was so beautiful that Ada almost lost the rhythm.

Miss Bat released the spell, and a sudden hush fell over them all, the only sound the crackling of the flames. For a few moments they waited, feeling the spell settle. Ada smiled at Miss Bat, and the girls. She couldn’t quite look at Hecate yet.

Then someone sneezed and the quiet broke. Some of the girls chattered excitedly, warming their cold hands near the fire, while others stood looking thoughtfully into it. Miss Bat turned and walked back to the castle, and the others began to follow in clusters.

Ada realised she had not let go of Hecate’s hand.

And Hecate had not let go either.

Hecate’s hand felt right in hers - their palms pressed together, Hecate’s long fingers curling around Ada’s knuckles, the tips of her nails light on Ada’s skin. Ada didn’t want to move, to break the mysterious power of this moment. They stood silently while the others slowly departed, until it was only the two of them and the fire, the castle obscured by the brightness of the flames.

‘Ada…’ said Hecate, softly.

Ada didn’t know whether it was the sense of communion still lingering from the chant, or something else, but she felt a moment of perfect clarity - Hecate wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss Hecate. They moved together in the same instant, she tilting upward and Hecate leaning down, their hands still joined as their mouths met, surging together, cold lips and warm breath. Hecate’s free hand caressed her cheek, and Ada’s answering sigh was swallowed in their kiss.

The loud crack of a twig snapping in the fire startled Hecate away. They stood for a moment, smiling shyly at each other. There seemed at the same time to be too much to say, and nothing that really needed saying.

‘We should return to the festivities,’ Hecate said at last. ‘The girls will be missing you.’

‘You’re probably right,’ said Ada.

Hecate leaned in and kissed Ada’s cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For the fire.’

They walked back to the castle, side by side.

‘Perhaps you could come to my room later for a nightcap,’ Ada said. ‘And we could… talk?’

‘I’d like that,’ said Hecate.

They passed under the archway that led into the courtyard, and as they emerged, it began to snow again. Ada looked up, smiling at the swirling flakes, a silent apology to the snow for having doubted it. The Great Wizard’s celebration could never have compared to this.


End file.
